


Proserpina

by Nelly (phagocytosis)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mention of Character Death, god damn it these character name spellings, grown 104th squad, post-canon AU, suicidal ideations, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:38:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phagocytosis/pseuds/Nelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no rest for the wicked, no peace for warriors, and Levi thinks humanity is still as shitty with titans as it is without it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proserpina

**Author's Note:**

> Based on art found on tumblr with grown up 104 squad... I think faun-song? THIS IS ROUGH, A LITTLE CHOPPY, I'M NOT EVEN SURE I LIKE IT, but haven't been able to write in awhile so thought I'd give it a go anyway! One shot with a terrible ending, series with a happy ending, haven't decided yet.

The day after they pin medals to Eren Jaeger's chest, they arrest Erwin.

There might even be a little bit of decency in the fact they waited even that long. 

The commotion wakes Levi up sluggish and slow, vaguely nauseous off the remainder of sweet wine he'd been plied with before being sent to pass out in the small side room to Erwin's office. The mattress is knotted and uncomfortable, tucked without a frame in the corner below the window and way too small for the both of them – but Erwin's no longer dozing with the head at the end of it and Levi's not dealing with his feet near his face anymore, finally giving him some room to stretch out and breathe. It's with some alarm he notes he's slept well into the afternoon if the sunlight on the floorboards is anything to go by, mouth dry and tasting foul. Head dizzy and vision uncooperative, it takes two tries to push himself up to standing; he's not sure why he grabs the letter opener off the small reading desk other than some half asleep, half drunk instinct and Nile's voice from the other room.

Nile and, as it turns out, ten other members of the military police with their rifles raised – plus three of them wrapping a chain around Erwin's waist, cuffing his left hand to it.

Funny, Levi thinks, even as an invalid they're still terrified of him. He wonders how long it took them to figure out how to restrain someone with only one wrist; how patient Erwin must have seemed, standing there in the middle of the room and letting them figure it out.

They're staring at him now, two of Nile's men pointing their guns at him, Erwin's thick brows furrowing, and too much happening at once even without anyone else moving. Killing a human was never anything like a titan, until Hanji figured out what they were harboring in the nape of their necks, and it was too late for those people even if they did cut them out carefully. Levi left the underground a long time ago but maybe he could let things come full circle, anyway.

There's nothing left of him to tarnish, and he reverses his grip on the letter opener.

But Erwin's saying “Levi,” and the men cuffing him panic and kick out his knees, bringing him down to the ground, and someone's cocking their rifle, and Levi tenses because he's caught between an order and chaos - 

“Stop!” Nile clears his throat, tries again. “This is a peaceful arrest – get him off the floor-”

“Says the pig who brought an army.” 

But Levi's fingers relax around the handle, letting it dangle loosely then drop with a small thunk against the hardwood, sharp of it embedding into the joints. Nile's men pull Erwin up off his knees, but it's unbalanced and awkward because no one wants to touch his stump, just hefting him up under the left arm as he braces and gets his feet back under him. Erwin doesn't stumble, he didn't even flinch when he went down in the first place, like he doesn't have the worst hangover of his life followed up by this bullshit – but when Levi catches his eyes, as easy and split second as it ever was, he thinks he might be smiling.

 

Officially, they charge him with war crimes, manslaughter, the death and endangerment of thousands by luring out a titan within Wall Sina. Things the courts absolved him of in the desperation of the moment come back full force before the dust has even settled, and Levi doesn't know who he's more sick of – politicians, or Erwin for staying in reach when he knew full well it would happen eventually, if maybe not so soon. 

Unofficially, it's an escape. He's a war hero, and there's no room for them in times of peace, the kind of people that know pain and sacrifice tinting everyone's blissful world view. Better to have someone definitive to blame, now that the titans are gone, a stepping stone for people to turn back on and say all the terrible things that surfaced as humanity clawed at life could be pinned on one person. That from that point onward people would be better, do better, free and absolved from fault and sin like a half-assed confession to a corrupt priest.

Erwin always understood and Levi curses himself for not listening to him the first time around, after the thirteenth commander's first expedition and the first round of deaths tallied under his name. That time, they brought the bodies with them, and in front of the heat of the funeral pyre was the only instance Levi witnessed him express regret so sharply, so fully.

“I'll pay for this one day,” he'd said, quiet enough that only Levi could hear above the crackling of bones splintering with the heat. He probably meant in Hell, reflecting back on it – but Levi never took the time to before and he'd never thought they'd be alive this long to consider an alternative.

Still, there's little Levi can do now. This is the path Erwin wants to take – Levi has to believe he wouldn't have let himself get taken in otherwise, has to trust that Erwin is still driven by a purpose greater than a martyr complex.

Yet it's a strange feeling, tugging hard and sharp at his chest, that he's not able to follow him down it.

He brushes his teeth a couple times that afternoon, but it still tastes sour, and he can't stop running his tongue over them.

The first few days, they don't let him inside the prison – no matter how long Levi stares the doormen down. There are easier ways to go about it, maybe, getting to the upper windows and working his way down to the dungeons where he know Erwin's been kept, but there's plying to his desire and then there's the last vestiges of Erwin's reputation. Breaking in, and then potentially out, of a prison isn't exactly the first step in keeping up appearances – but then, Levi's not sure who the hell Erwin thinks he's kidding, either. If the tribunal wants an example, they'll have one. If they want a symbol, they'll create one.

There are rumors flying within – and outside of now, too – the three walls at an impending execution, but no one's stepping up to protest. It's bullshit, because Levi doesn't know how much Erwin has to give; he's saved humanity, now he's apparently willing to sacrifice himself to let humanity move on. 

_They already abandoned you,_ he wants to say, doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that _you're abandoning me_ weighs the same in his mouth.

It's too pathetic.

The war is over and Levi has captain quarters that haven't been cleaned for over eight months, since before their final expedition outside the walls. He dusts, scrubs the rug, wipes down the empty desk he never used for anything other than kicking his feet up on. The war is over, and after three hours spent cleaning, his hands still spasm. 

He shouldn't be surprised to hear footfalls outside of his door, but he jerks anyway – Hanji, her steps heavy and careless, and maybe Eren too, the awkward shuffle of a young person not quite grown into his body yet. Twenty-two years old and a war veteran, Levi considers the idea ridiculous; it can't have been that long already. But Hanji shoves open the door with a sigh, seven years worth of recovering from burns and scars leaving her skin mottled and dark in patches, and Eren blinks at him with the eyes of a boy stuck on the features of a man and it's the stupidest thing in Levi's vision, right now, the three of them alive. 

“Levi!” Hanji drops onto a nearby chaise, long legs stretched out in front of her, slumped so far down her ass isn't even on the seat. “I'm so depressed! Poor Commander, huh?”

He narrows his eyes at the mud on her boots, kicking her feet up out of the way to drape his cleaning cloth down on the streaked floor in front of her. Obligingly, she crosses her ankles on it. He'll have to redo the whole room, when they leave. At least Eren has enough sense to shut the door and stand by it, not tracking anything else in.

“So it's true? The trial...” Eren's voice is soft, but the strain of anger is present; they used his violence for so long, Levi considers, he wonders what Eren has left for him now in this world. No more titans to kill. So little of his friends left. All that anger doesn't just go away, Levi knows, wonders if the titan inside of him will end up eating him alive from the heart outward, if Eren will end up no different than the obtunded remains of human beings so carefully cut from their necks. 

“I bet he has diarrhea,” Levi mentions. “All that prison food.”

“Maybe we should bring him a boxed lunch. Quail? Eggs? The bakery in Trost is having a sale, all those leftovers from the ceremony. How about a send off cake?” Hanji rests her elbow on the arm of the char, cupping her cheek. She pauses, eyes sliding away toward the empty fireplace. “Ah, I never knew what his favorite fruit was...”

Eren's already gritting his teeth. Levi can't imagine what it's like, having a childhood hero – dreams stacked up against the harsher front of reality. Humanity's strongest, too short. Commander Erwin Smith, too ruthless. In that split second he finds himself thinking about Isabel, about the way the sun above the underground had blinded her for the first time, but he clamps down on it with a viciousness that takes even himself aback. “We need to make an appeal! We can do that, right? I'm sure Armin would want to, we could all make statements toward his character-”

“Hey Hanji, do you think they would acquit Erwin if they knew he liked children and small dogs?”

The side of her mouth twists, pushes to one side of her face is an ugly manner as she huffs, looks up to the ceiling – she hasn't looked directly at him yet, Levi notes, then promptly ignores.

“Why aren't you two taking this seriously? He could die!”

“Ahh, you mustn't insult us, Eren... we're still your superiors, after all.” She straightens up in her chair, planting her boots more fully on the cloth covering the floor. “Maybe Levi has a plan?”

It takes him a moment to realize that she's serious, when she finally looks at him, and Levi pauses. Do they really not get it? He sits on the edge of the desk, watching the both of them. 

“Don't be stupid,” he says, and maybe it's harsher than he means to be – the small twitch at the corner of Hanji's left eye under her shitty glasses, the way Eren's mouth opens. “He practically waited for those shits to arrest him. Whatever Erwin wants to get out of this, it's his choice. We have to trust him to make his own decisions – he's earned that much.” Tipping his head down, he sweeps his thumb over a streak of dust left behind on the corner of the desk. “He's a creepy old man. Maybe he's ready to die. Might as well be for whatever screwed up result he thinks this will accomplish. Let him be happy with it.”

“Are you happy with it, Levi?” Hanji's staring at him, her doe eyes suddenly sharp, and Levi's always hated that switch in her. 

“Doesn't matter.”

“It does,” Eren says roughly. “Of course it does. I don't care what you think – I'm going to save him. _That's_ what he deserves – his men fighting for him as hard as he fought for humanity. And I sincerely hope you'll join me in that fight, Captain. Squad Leader.”

“Impressive thing,” Hanji is saying, as Eren opens the door and leave, shutting it loudly behind him. “Youth.”

Levi says nothing. 

 

On the fifth day of Erwin's imprisonment, Levi's finally granted visitation. He can't bring himself to wear the uniform, though, but he doesn't think too hard about it as he dresses in civilian clothes instead. The war is over. The state and purpose of the Survey Corps is, at the moment, in limbo with its commander under persecution. If Erwin's planned this far ahead, maybe he's already got the selection for the fourteenth commander, and Levi's aware enough to have a good idea as to who it might be. 

The dungeon smells like shit.

Erwin looks like shit, too – they haven't let him bathe or shave or even comb his hair at this point, and Levi's nose wrinkles at the sight of him. Probably want him to look as depraved and dirty as possible before the trial, the murderous whims of a crazed drunk. At least they'd taken the chains off, but even in this light Levi can see how his wrist has been rubbed raw.

“If I'd known it was this bad, I'd have brought soap instead of food.” He shoves the small boxed lunch through the bars, holding it out for him. “From four-eyes.”

“I'm surprised they let you bring anything in.”

“They inspected it. Pretty sure the fat one took the jam, but I think they don't want you to starve before your hearing.”

“Thank you, Levi.” Erwin's close, now, carefully taking the box – but he just sets it on top of the nearby bench. “I appreciate it.”

“Bullshit.”

Erwin raises his brows, and Levi doesn't add anything further, and they fall silent. They're keeping Erwin apart from any of the other prisoners, and the quiet is stifling, choking. Security is miserable, everyone rejoicing in the aftermath of the war, and there's only one guard posted down at the end of the hall – it'd be easy, to get Erwin out of here, to use the 3DMG gear to scape and leave the walls behind entirely. 

The world is bigger, now.

“I figured I should warn you,” Levi says, after awhile. “The kid's planning to protest at your trial. Might mess things up for you.” Erwin only nods, bracing his good shoulder against the bars as they watch each other. Frustrated, he continues. “Why'd you have me stay if you knew what was coming?”

“You were drunk. I couldn't send you off by yourself.”

“You gave me the alcohol.”

“Yes.” Erwin's smiling, now, in some small way at the edge of his mouth as he passes a hand through his hair. The oil and dirt is making it stick up in places, fall in his eyes in others, stringy and disgusting. “Maybe I wanted to say goodbye, Levi.”

“Could've picked a better time and place to do it. Could've left me sober for that.” Levi turns, leaning his back against the bars, crossing his arms behind his back to keep them pinned against them, fingers curling lightly on the metal rods. Like this, Erwin's directly behind him now, and he hears as well as feels Erwin's huff, smells the dirt and sweat.

Erwin's finger traces over his knuckles, and Levi grimaces. 

“You've plenty of questions, I'm sure.”

“You've got your reasons.”

“Armin will be a good leader, with a clean slate.”

“You prepped him for this before we even killed the last titan.”

“Yes.” Erwin's voice is plain, quiet, maybe the most honest Levi's heard in some time.

“You expecting me to follow him or something?”

“No. But you will anyway, because he wants to see the rest of the world, and so do you.”

Levi's grip tightens on the bar, but Erwin doesn't stop touching his hands with that single, roaming point of contact. It's not careful. It's the same way Erwin reads his papers sometimes, tracing the lines, mapping for things hidden.

“You're really going to go through with this.”

“Have some pity, won't you? I'm tired.”

He scoffs. “What's the point of saving humanity if you don't want to live to see what you've accomplished? If you don't want to live with your choices, fine – but don't act as if your death will close this chapter, like the titans never existed. People will build themselves back up. They don't give a shit whether or not you die in the process, and they'll forget symbols. It'll be meaningless.”

“It matters to some, I believe.”

“The world's a bigger place, now. You should see it for yourself and decide if these games are really worth it. You gave humanity your heart, right? You don't have to give it your life, too, just because it's uncomfortable looking you in the eye.”

Erwin hums, a strange sound for it's softness. “You're so eloquent now, you know. When did that happen?”

“You spew a lot of shit. I had to learn to keep up with it, didn't I?”

“Seems that way. Though," Erwin's fingers leave his hand, brushing against the nape of his neck where the collar of his jacket is folded neatly. "Why didn't you get this jacket taken in?”

He pauses, bringing his arm out from behind him to eye the sleeve, the way it slips past his wrist. “Never had time to think about it. No point now, is there? It's gonna be the only thing I've got left of you. Might as well look as ridiculous as you are.”

“Levi...”

“Don't,” he says, stiff. “You've never said it before.”

Erwin, for once, obeys him.


End file.
